Books have a unique way of stopping time in a particular moment and saying: Let’s
not forget this.
We are unusual and tragic and alive.
I will not wait to love as best as I can. We thought we were young and that there would be time to love well sometime in the future. This is a terrible way to think. It is no way to live, to wait to love.
I like the dark part of the night, after midnight and before four-thirty, when it's hollow, when ceilings are harder and farther away. Then I can breathe, and can think while others are sleeping, in a way can stop time, can have it so – this has always been my dream – so that while everyone else is frozen, I can work busily about them, doing whatever it is that needs to be done, like the elves who make the shoes while children sleep.
But everyone disappears, no matter who loves them.
Still though, I think if you're not self-obsessed, you're probably boring.
Humans are divided between those who can still look through the eyes of youth and those who cannot.
The only infallible truth of our lives is that everything we love in life will be taken from us.